Chapter 45

Aaron swept his gaze across the Great Hall.

“Almost everyone’s here,” he said. “There’s still an outer group gathering. One branch refused to join this mission, and a few scattered members backed out. But plenty of wizards outside the Order want to fight.”

“You approved it?” Skoll asked, looking at him.

“They heard the rumors from their friends in the Order. They all showed up with wands, waiting at the rendezvous point. I—”

“It’s fine, Aaron.” Skoll smiled faintly. “That’s good news. Seems the Order of the Phoenix has quite the public support after all.”

“But what do I do with them?” Aaron pressed. “More are still arriving!”

“Form two additional combat units for them. Assign them to the flanks. Call Kingsley and the rest of the teachers, have them gather around.”

With a flick of his wand, a cylindrical tube flew out of Skoll’s pocket. He opened it and drew out a rolled-up map. Another wave of his wand unfurled it, a compact floor plan of Hogwarts.

Almost immediately, the map came alive. Terrain, forest, and lake rose into three-dimensional relief. Skoll studied it and began circling several areas.

McGonagall and Moody arrived, leading three mercenary captains.

The mercenaries drew curious stares from students and Order members alike. Each unit wore its own uniform, their weapons gleaming. One of them, a towering wizard nearly two meters tall, wore a wolf pelt around his neck like a trophy.

It took less than ten minutes to finalize the battle plan. Moody, Kingsley, and the mercenary captains did most of the talking. Skoll interjected only with key questions, while Professor McGonagall provided details about the surrounding terrain.

“Good,” Skoll said at last. “The plan is set. Is everyone clear on your duties?”

Heads nodded all around.

McGonagall glanced at the map. “Is that one of Professor Dumbledore’s?”

“It is,” Skoll replied with a faint smile. “He passed it on to me before he died.” He clapped his hands. “Now, everyone, gather your teams. Once I finish speaking, we move.” He checked his watch.

“Where are those magical and physical smoke bombs you mentioned?” Moody asked, his wooden leg thudding against the stone. “And what about the Slytherin students? I saw them being evacuated, why didn’t you hold them as hostages?”

“Moody! They’re children!” McGonagall snapped.

“I thought we were fighting a war,” he grumbled, shrugging, his magical eye swiveling toward the tallest mercenary.

Skoll murmured something to a burly, blue-robed captain before turning back to Moody. “They’re outside the Hall, under guard. You can collect them in a moment.”

The members of the Order and the professors began to disperse. The three mercenary captains stayed. Skoll reached into his pack and handed each of them a large dragonhide pouch. They hefted them, nodded approvingly, and left.

With a sweep of his wand, the suspended Hogwarts map expanded, larger, and larger, until it covered the length of three long tables. Everyone in the Hall stared, mesmerized. Circles, runes, and markings filled the surface, clearly showing each team’s assigned area.

“Memorize this map,” Skoll said, amplifying his voice with a Sonorus charm. His tone was deep and steady, carrying weight and calm. “This is one of your greatest advantages. The enemy doesn’t have anything this detailed.”

“Tonight’s battle will be remembered in history. Months from now, years, even decades from now, your names will be spoken across the wizarding world. After tonight, when you walk through Diagon Alley, through London’s wizarding quarters, at every gathering and every celebration, people will talk about this night!”

“They’ll say: it happened here, at this school, founded in 993, standing for over a thousand years! One of the greatest battles of our time was fought right here! And it was fought not by legends, not by ghosts, but by you!”

He pointed toward them, his voice rising.

“Ask yourselves, why are you standing here tonight? What are you willing to die for? Since the Dark Lord seized power, each of you has heard the screams, seen the horrors, endless fear, suffocating oppression, despair without light! But from this moment forward, no more!”

A few wizards began to sob quietly.

The Weasleys clung to each other. Bill kissed Fleur. Some closed their eyes. Others stared up at Skoll, faces solemn.

“I joined the Order for one reason, to protect! To protect what I hold dear!” His voice deepened, powerful and certain. “I am a wizard, and I have things worth giving my life to defend!”

His words thundered through the Great Hall.

“Life is short. And when you face the final enemy, Death itself, I say this: I admire you. Truly. Each one of you. Because whatever your reasons, you’ve chosen to say I’m not afraid. Whatever happens, you are the true heroes of this battle!”

“When this night is over, a monument will rise here. Maybe we’ll all fall, but that monument will be invisible, carved instead in every heart that remembers this night. Your names will become legend, stories told by mothers, passed down to your children and theirs!”

Skoll paused.

The Great Hall went utterly still.
No one moved. Every pair of eyes was fixed on him, hearts surging with emotion.

If that moment had a color, it would have been burning red, fierce orange, and solemn black.

Slowly, Skoll reached up and pulled back his hood.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as they saw the long scar that ran down the left side of his face. Several Hogwarts students sucked in sharp breaths.

“Some of you still wonder, still doubt. Let me tell you this plainly,” Skoll said quietly. “When the Order’s headquarters was attacked, I killed four Death Eaters alone. I survived, with this scar as proof. I tell you this because I want you to know, this battle is not one we are destined to lose. We will win. Because Dumbledore left me a final weapon, a secret one, that can be used no later than one o’clock tonight. So hold your faith. Stand your ground until then. And when the clock strikes one, we end this, together!”

Silence.

Then Skoll’s lips curved in a small smile. His tone softened.

“And after the battle, those of you still standing can head to the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade. Drinks are on me.”

Laughter burst across the Hall.

“Does the Hog’s Head even have that much firewhisky?” someone shouted.

“That’s right! We’ll all take a glass!” another called out.

Many were laughing through tears.

“If it’s not enough,” Skoll said, grinning, “I’ll buy out the whole of London! Don’t worry, I’m rich. You won’t drink me broke!”

He glanced down at his watch. The smile vanished.

“The enemy will reach Hogwarts in five to six minutes. Now—”

“Squad leaders! Form up! Move out!”

The laughter died. Wands were drawn. Faces hardened.

The great doors of the Hall swung open. The three mercenary units marched out first, followed by group after group of wizards.

Through the streaming crowd, Hermione suddenly pushed forward, moving against the flow.

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance, then followed her, flanking her on both sides until they reached Skoll.

Hermione seized his hand and pulled him toward a side chamber. Skoll went without resistance.

Ron and Harry followed close behind, looking for all the world as though they were about to discuss battle plans.

“Merlin’s beard, Skoll!” Ron gushed as they walked. “That speech, you were brilliant! No wonder Fred and George think so highly of you! Honestly, I might make you my new hero. The only one! I even cried! You didn’t see Neville, he was a mess, snot and all! That was the most inspiring thing I’ve ever heard in my life!”

“I’m ready to charge right now! Let’s show those Death Eaters what Gryffindor courage looks like! Let them taste some Weasley firepo—”

“Ron,” Harry interrupted gently, stopping him at the threshold of the side door. Hermione had already pulled Skoll inside. “Let’s… give them a minute.”

Inside, the small chamber was quiet.

“Close your eyes,” Hermione rasped, her voice thick.

“What? Oh, okay.” Anne obeyed with a small, puzzled smile.

A moment later, Hermione cupped Anne’s face and kissed her.

Anne’s heart leapt. She smiled against Hermione’s lips, ready to deepen the kiss, when something cool and slick poured into her mouth.

She swallowed before she could react. Her eyes flew open.

She grabbed Hermione’s shoulders, pulling back. A small glass vial lay empty on the carpet.

Felix Felicis.

“Hermione?” Anne frowned, her voice a mix of confusion and reproach.

“You lied to me!” Hermione’s voice broke. “There isn’t another bottle, is there? You promised you’d always keep someone by your side to protect you, what about tonight? You swore your safety came first, and yet you’re doing this again!”

Her fingers twisted into Anne’s collar. Big, hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

“All that talk about everyone dying, who said you could die? You swore you’d never say that word again!”

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